


Been Better

by threewalls



Category: Last Remnant
Genre: Comfort, Community: areyougame, Community: hc_bingo, Friendship, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Six Bases, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the concluding battle of the Six Bases, David is feeling-- well, he has felt better, certainly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Been Better

**Author's Note:**

> Written with thanks to lynndyre, for seducing me to the fluffy side (ie h/c).
> 
> Written for:
> 
> 1) areyougame's July '11 round for the prompt: hurt/comfort - using the Gae Bolg usually leaves David's body aching, but the feeling is particularly acute after Koenigsdorf and;
> 
> 2) hc_bingo 2011-12 for the "unexpected consequences of planned soulbonding" square.

"Hey, Dave. You don't have to get up."

David subsides on the camp bed, still on his side, allowing Rush space to perch on the frame. Even with the canvas flap re-tied shut at the entrance to the wagon, the lights and sounds of the camp outside march at the edges of David's perception.

"How're you feeling?"

"I've been better." David attempts to smile, but soon gives the gesture up for lost; it is enough to keep his eyes slit open to look at Rush. Priorities. "And yourself?"

"I heal fast," Rush says, with a shrug that leaves his shoulders raised a beat too long, something rueful that isn't quite the joke that his expression invites David to share.

Rush tells him so much, so freely and easily, that the places in his conversation when he does not have such obvious tells. Or perhaps it is that Rush is so honest, so forthright, that David marks these pauses for what they are: this is something Rush cannot tell him. It is easy enough to imagine Rush's resilience is due to his share in the special talents his mother and sister manifest. David is curious, but without cause, he will not pry.

"Then I envy you," David says. He is not lying. "I would not wish this headache on my worst enemy."

Irina and Haruko have determined that the event must have been in some way prompted by the being calling himself the Conqueror, though he himself has not appeared on this battlefield. They do not believe the experience will recur, but David is sorely reminded that they are all of them acting so much in ignorance, out of hope. But of course, there are worse motivations.

The medics have pronounced David's health satisfactory. There remains no established precedent for this, for a remnant acting in such a fashion to divorce itself from its mortal anchor. David was once the only noble to bind two remnants, and now in the space of a year, he has lost two, but the experience of the first was no preparation for the second. The place where David feels the Gae Bolg inside him is tense, sore, familiar pain radiating through his body akin but of a far more massive scale to the sensations he feels at the conclusion of any conjuration in which he calls upon Kellendros. There is also a numb place within him, where the Valeria Heart is simply six months absent, where there is nothing left.

In the morning, David will be grateful that he has retained control of the Gae Bolg, when so many other nobles have lost their remnants to altercations with the Conqueror and his associates, that they have as yet retained use of its power. For now, with the night, with seeking not to grind his teeth, he has difficulty drawing his mind away from the fact that there are no established treatments for bruises and scars upon one's soul.

Rush takes a sip of the willow bark tea left for David, and makes a face. The medicine is not improved by allowing it to cool. "Is this dose number two?"

"I didn't--"

"Ok, number one, I'm betting. If I drink half, will you finish it?"

"You drive a hard bargain," David says.

He suspects that Rush's quick draught is in reality somewhat less than half the original volume, but when Rush holds the cup to David's lips, David does drink all that remains.

Rush has a soft cloth and a small bowl of water. That their presence had slipped David's attention is proof enough that he needs rest.

"I've got a message from Pagus. No matter what, the army needs tonight for decampment. Which they're taking care of out there. So try to sleep, ok? You know we're going to get woken up as soon as they're good to go."

We. David exhales.

"Understood."

The cool darkness that the cloth brings to David's finally closed eyes is bliss, as are the hot points of Rush's fingers on David's forehead, pushing back sweaty locks of hair. David turns his head, a small gesture that Rush aids to completion, David's cheek resting upon Rush's thigh.

When the wagon jolts into motion, David rest his hand beside his face for purchase, fingers curled to grip in the fabric of Rush's trousers. The willow bark tea, the dimness of light, the cool cloth and Rush's ministrations mean that soon, the rocky motion of the wagon, the familiar tension across his shoulders, even the throbbing behind his right eye socket is no impediment to slumber.


End file.
